


Coast

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Silly sap. (06/30/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: There's always a twist to everything I write.  


* * *

Malcolm was sleeping in Trip's quarters tonight. He was exhausted, and snuggled more deeply into Trip's arms. He embraced him tightly, and feeling comforted, and comfortable, he sighed, and fell asleep.

Something buzzed and beeped at him, waking him. //Go back to sleep, just Trip snoring away.// It kept beeping.

He swiped his hand across Trip's adam's apple, and muttered, "Stop snoring, 'Mistah Tuck..."

He rolled over, and finally realized he must answer the summons. Blindly searching for the button, he pushed it, answering hoarsely, "Yeah?"

Trip woke, lethargic, groggy, struggling to find the warm body, so he could pull it closer. He opened his eyes when he heard Malcolm muttering, "Which one? Atlantic or Pacific?"

Malcolm returned to bed, smashing the pillow with his fist, before scooting over, to lie on top of Trip.

"Who the hell wuz at?" Trip mumbled against Malcolm's sweet neck, gleeful at the armful weighing him down.

Malcolm's lips crushed his, hungrily, as if he were devouring his last meal before execution. Trip was drowning, suffocating, gasping, feeling nourished and sated at the same time.

"Lew Tennant," he gasped, when Malcolm finally stopped kissing him, "I surrender!"

Malcolm propped himself up on Trip's chest. "I need to sle...ep."

Trip eyed him. "Awright, but who was that you were speakin' to?"

Malcolm opened wide his eyes. "Didn't recognize the voice.....yet. He wanted to know 'if the coast was clear.'" Malcolm clenched his teeth in sudden fury. Before he collapsed and nodded completely off, Trip heard him muttering, "...you're going to spend every minute of every hour of every day with me from now on."

Trip smiled. Satisfied. With himself. That's right Mal, we ain't gonna squander our time, being apart an' miserable.

He chuckled before twisting his body in the cramped space, to lean over, held Mal's face between his hands, and left a lingering, soft kiss upon his brow. He whispered into his lover's silky hair words of nonsense, and Malcolm sleepily grumbled, "must protect your rear flank, Trip."


End file.
